The lure of the one eyed snake
by parmakai66
Summary: Okay, maybe this was all a dream and I’m really at home, just coming out of the bathroom.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: The Unit and its characters belong to CBS and a bunch of other people that have a heck of a lot more money that I do. No infringement intended. I'm just invited a few over to play in my sandbox.

The lure of the one eyed snake

Summary: What red-blooded male can resist a hot girl in a nurses uniform?

He awoke to a veil of darkness, his throbbing head numbing his senses. As he blinked to clear his vision, his eyelashes brushed the fabric covering his eyes. In a knee jerk reaction, he moved his right arm to touch his head and was blinded by a searing pain radiating from his wrist to his elbow. He squeezed his eyes shut and grimaced as the burning sensation flooded his body. He focused on his right arm and struggled to remain awake as he began to white out from the pain. _This is no time to be passing out, _he chided himself sharply as he swallowed hard and let a gasp of air escape his lips.

_My arm's broken, _he thought as he forced his body to relax. _There's something cold on my arm. Hard and cool, like a metal table. _While he concentrated on the position of his limb, he became aware of the oxygen tubing resting just under his nose. _I'm in a hospital, _he thought as he took steady breaths to ease the pain. _I'm in a hospital, _he repeated feeling his body relax.

The comforting thought of a hospital room quickly dissipated when he realized a rope restrained him where he lay. The thin, twine like binding dug into his skin and tethered his left arm above his head. His right arm, while resting on the cool metal table, was secured with the same material. His feet were tied to a point out of the scope of his imagination. He tried to move his feet and arms to test the binding strength. _I'm not in a hospital…where the frick am I? _He frantically began to kick and pull at the restraints on his feet and left wrist. Although the material reminded him of twine, it was much stronger and resilient. Fear washed over him as he gritted his teeth and contemplated his situation.

_Get a hold of yourself! _he sternly scolded as panic settled in. _Where the frick am I? And what the frick's wrong with my eyes? Why the frick are they covered? I can see, I think, _he rambled silently. A fever boiled in his blood and sweat dampened his brow. The rapid questions flooded his head, triggering a severe headache. He suddenly felt sick to his stomach and turned his head to vomit. As the excretion pooled by his shoulder, he coughed forcefully to clear his throat and felt the room spin slowly out of control. _Oh shit, _he thought as he realized the consequences of his melt down. Darkness clouded his vision again as he drifted into unconsciousness.

00-00

A spasm in his leg rattled him from his sleep in what seemed like mere minutes later. It was clear, however, that more time had passed. Many thoughts about his predicament filtered through his mind and most sent shivers down his spine. His head was swimming on the verge of unconsciousness, but he wasn't so out of it to miss the clues. Things were different now, very different.

The first clue was the heaviness he felt on his right arm. When he tried to move it, the clunk of plaster on metal told him that someone had put some type of cast on it. The same person had cleaned the vomit from his shoulder and the bed. _And stuck that tube up my dick, _he thought, feeling the plastic tubing against his thigh and tape pulling at the hair on his leg. The other thing that stared him blankly in the face was the most disturbing of all....

_I'm naked, _he realized staring blindly into the material that covered his eyes. Confusion began to set in again as he tried to understand why someone with the decency to care for his injury and physical needs would keep him confined to the bed. _Why? _He questioned, rustling around under the sheet that covered him. As the air from the room cooled his warm skin, he realized his vulnerability to his captors. He was naked, blind, and restrained with no way to protect himself.

_Where am I? _he thought as he tuned in his senses. A bed, yes. Perhaps a hotel? No the room was too quiet, no outside sounds. A house or apartment. A fresh fragrance filled the air. _Clean, _he noted, turning his head into the pillow to catch a whiff. _Freshly washed, definitely not a shack motel. _He reached the fingers of his left hand out to the edge of the mattress and then back to wall behind him. _I got a little give, _he surmised moving his body around to understand his position. _No footboard, so my feet are tied to the frame? _He lifted his foot up and pulled at the rope. _One is under, the other is straight out, _he tried to pull his knee to his chest and realized the rope had some slack in it. _Not anchored very well, _he surmised as he relaxed his leg on the mattress. "It's quiet," he whispered to himself.

He ran his tongue over his dry lips and chuckled at the irony of his situation. _Whoever is so worried about me escaping from this room sure doesn't give a crap if I start screaming my head off, _he thought as he mused over the lack of a gag on his face. He sighed when he thought about the reality of his plight. _Or they're holding me in the middle of nowhere, so no one would hear it if I started yelling. __Where am I anyway? _he thought trying to remember the events that brought him to this place.

Surveillance. The team had been in that crappy apartment all night watching for the target. The intel was shaky at best. Everyone had been on edge and tempers were flaring at every little thing. Boss had told him to take a walk to cool off. _Be back in an hour, _he warned. _So why I thought going into that bar was a good idea … I'll never know. The women were hot and needy, _he thought remembering the surreal sight of the lights, music, and people. He had ordered a drink and a cute red head had approached him from the side. _Never trust a red head, _he reminded himself as he recalled how she slid up next to him, touching him. No didn't quite seem to be in her vocabulary. He didn't need to be a rocket scientist to understand her message. Things got a little fuzzy once his drink arrived. _She must have laced it with something and then brought me here, _he concluded. _She couldn't have been working alone. She was a little thing, obviously I was fighting, otherwise how did my arm get broke? _

He sighed and closed his eyes letting the story play out in his mind. A struggle like the thousands he had been in since his first day in the unit. He was strong, yet now captured. _Drugged, it's the only way. I was due back in an hour. The boss would be looking for me. I need to find a way to get loose and get out of here_, he thought as he heard movement in the room. _I'm not alone. _He lay still as the person approached the bed and felt the mattress dip as a basin of water was set on it. The sheet was pulled away and hands brushed against his skin. He bit his lip to stifle a shudder that rattled through his body. He listened intently as the person placed a cloth or sponge in the water and wrung it out. _Oh shit, _he cursed when the cool cloth touched his skin.

The hand touching his body was gentle and warm. The sensation was frightening and oddly exciting at the same time. He struggled to keep his composure and his thoughts in check. Yet the stillness of the room, the even breathing of the person next to him and the fresh smell in the air were making it difficult. He let his muscles relax against the mattress; his mind became a woozy jumble of random meaningless thoughts, a mission, a basketball game, another time, a familiar woman in his bed. The clock stopped ticking as reality blended with his memory. The pressure on his leg caused a reaction he couldn't control. While he knew he should feel something negative about it, in this moment of reality his body was swept away into a warm bliss. Before he could do anything to counter act his behavior, he felt sleep tugging him into his dreams.

00-00

Out of habit, he opened his eyes when he awoke, only to find darkness. He took a deep breath and concentrated on his senses to define his surroundings. Nothing about this place he was in seemed right to him. He was a soldier and yet a victim on this bed brought here by unknown forces, or woman half his size. Trained to be a strategist in his day-to-day operations, yet somehow outwitted and made defenseless.

_Sponge bath. _The words taunted his memory. _Did someone give me a sponge bath? _He closed his eyes and winced as the memory flooded thoughts. _I think it was a little more than your run of the mill sponge bath, _he informed himself ruefully. _Crap! _He cursed as he recalled the warm sensations that he embraced several hours ago. His body had failed his training and resolve. _That stuff doesn't … couldn't happen to me, _he tried to reason unconvincingly. _I don't think I want to stick around for a second dose._ He concentrated on the stillness of the room, hearing only his heart beating loudly in his ear. When he was sure there was no other movement in the room or in the vicinity, he began to move his limbs to loosen the ropes detaining him.

The slight tugging on the ropes lead to a surprising discovery, his right arm was not tied to the table as it had been earlier. He stretched his fingers to check for dexterity and when he was sure he could move his hand with tolerable pain, he pulled his arm toward his face, pushing the blindfold from his eyes.

He squinted in the dim light of the room. As his eyes began to adjust, he scanned his surroundings quickly. The room matched the smell, appointed like a luxury hotel room. The four-poster bed and matching dresser were the largest items in the room. A small chair sat near a window opposite the bed. He pushed up on his elbow and focused straight ahead. _Street lights and trees. It's still dark, maybe just a few hours have passed. No traffic, a side street or residential, _his mind raced as he planned his escape out of this prison. He laid back and looked around the bed, spying medical equipment on both sides. He was laying on the right side of the mattress; tanks that resembled oxygen tanks were poised along the wall next to the metal table, along with a metal IV stand. He pulled the oxygen tubing from his face and trailed the IV tubing to his arm, ripping the needle out at its insertion point.

"Agh," he moaned as he slowly rolled to his left and put pressure on his arm to stop the bleeding. He peered over the side and noticed his clothes folded on the top of the dresser. He inspected the rope tied to his wrist and followed the line to find where it was connected. He lay back against the pillow and looked toward the right to find something to cut the bindings.

"Give me break," he muttered when he discovered a small pocketknife on the table to the right. He stretched his fingers to snag it and flipped it in his hand once he had a hold of it securely. The rope became his target and he quickly went to work, sawing through the bindings of his prison. He nicked himself in the process and cursed under his breath as he felt the blood begin to pool in the wounds.

After a minute, his left arm was free, and he pushed himself into a sitting position to begin to work on his feet. The first leg was easy; the second was far from a piece of cake. He scooted down the bed and had to lean on his right arm as he sliced into the rope fibers. He gritted his teeth as throbbing pain radiated from his right elbow into his shoulder, but he couldn't think about that right now. Releasing the binding rope put him one-step closer to freedom.

As soon as he was free, he crawled off the bed. He looked down at the tubing that ran from his penis to the urine collection pod. He shrugged his shoulders and ripped the tube from his dick in one quick movement. He clenched his jaw and groaned as the pain cut through him like a knife. It practically dropped him to his knees, but somehow he managed to remain standing. He stumbled toward the dresser and grabbed his jeans. Leaning against the wall, he struggled to pull them on, still light-headed from whatever medication was being pumped into his veins and the burning sensation of his dick.

_Can't think about that now, _he reminded himself as he yanked his shirt over his head. He scanned the room, taking inventory of potential weapons. His eyes settled on the oxygen tanks next to the bed. He stared at the tanks and tilted his head. Walking around the bed to get closer to them, he read the writing on one of the tanks aloud.

"Nitrous Oxide," he mumbled as he tilted the tank back. "No wonder I felt woozy." He shrugged his shoulders and stepped to the end of the bed, closer to the door. He put his hand against the wall and hesitated a moment as another wave of nausea came over him. He breathed slowly in through his nose and out of his mouth several time as the feeling subsided.

He stood there for several minutes until he heard a voice from the other side of the door. He looked behind him to the mattress and grabbed the knife. He stepped behind the door and waited. The seconds clicked off like hours in his mind. The voice was louder now, just outside the door in a conversation with another. One was clearly a male, the other … more distant... was a higher pitch, perhaps a female.

He took a breath to calm his nerves just as the door popped open. A male entered the room and stopped dead in his tracks just inside the door. The man was shorter in stature and stocky. _I can take him _he thought as he lunged forward at the man. He wrestled with his captor, taking a blow or two, slashing at the man's skin with the knife. He grabbed a fistful of hair and wrapped his arms around his neck, snapping it before the man could make another move. He dropped the guy to the floor and leaned against the wall to steady himself again. Wiping the sweat from his brow, he darted from the room and stumbled his way down the hallway, bouncing off the walls as he went.

He only made it as far as the corner when he came face to face with a woman. Not just any woman, mind you. The woman of his dreams, scantily dressed in a pink negligee and high-heeled shoes. Spiked and fuzzy. _Wow! _He gulped as she walked toward him slowly, deliberately strutting her stuff. She batted her eyes at him seductively. She walked toward him with confidence. _God is she hot, _he thought as he warmed to her smiling face. _Okay, maybe this was all a dream and I'm really at home, just coming out of the bathroom. Hmmm, she's closer, _he thought as their bodies made contact.

"Kim?" he muttered as she wrapped her arms around his back and nuzzled her nose into the crook his neck. He felt the warmth of her breath on his skin, her fingernails rake over his skin.

"Ow!" he yelped as a sharp prick on his bicep pulled him out of his thoughts and as his legs began to buckle and the light began to dim, he cursed himself for his stupidity. _There ya go again, thinking with the one eyed snake again. _

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Snake 2

Mack Gerhardt paced across the living room at the safe house with self-contained rage. The tension on the mission had been thick all night. The intel was shotty and in true dumb-ass Mack Gerhardt style, he took it out on his team. Specifically Brown. Why Bob had been his target tonight escaped him. Maybe because Bob challenged him, out-thought him with his college educated smarts. Or maybe Bob was just the unlucky victim because Tiffy had pissed him off yet again right before he left, then mission went bust, everything started to unravel. Now Brown was missing and the colonel was all over his shit and a second team had been called in to assist and … ugh god …. If another member of his team died because of his inattentiveness … Mack was truly going to eat his gun.

He looked at his watch for the twentieth time. Brown was seven hours missing. Seven fricken hours since Carlito had suggested the two take a break. Seven hours since Bob had stared him down, said he needed some fresh air and then walked out that door with a sneering look of contempt. Seven hours and two check ins missed. Two calls to Dogpatch zero six and one lengthy ass chewing later, Mack Gerhardt was facing a moment of truth that rivaled no other. If he had to tell Kim Brown that he was the reason she was a widow, the reason her children would grow up without their father…. there would be no redemption for him after. Mack ran his hand across his brow and sighed heavily. A sound at the door had him spinning on his heel and leveling his side arm before the door creaked open.

"Hey! Whoa, friendly," Carlito blurted out as he walked into the room. "And I bring friendlies," he added pointing back at Charlie team.

"Hey," Mack grumbled half-heartedly. He shoved his weapon back into his holster. He shook Sergeant McCann's hand as the team walked in and went right into damage control. He eyeballed the crew, McCann, Bates, Anderson, and Milsap. All educated, cocky and determined, much like Mack was in the beginning. _Like Brown is, _he reminded himself slowly. _The new unit makeup, the relics like me are on the way out … because I'm a dumb ass that loses half my team. _

"Status report?" McCann asked pulling Mack from his thoughts.

"The intel was a bust, the target never showed," Mack replied ruefully.

"And Cool Breeze?" McCann prodded crossing his arms at his chest.

Mack stared at the team lead and tried to get into the head of the man before answering. There was nothing about McCann's appearance that made him stand out from the hundred other unit members. The guy was like a vanilla wafer, one of many non descript men, yet one of few. _Does he think I'm a fuck-up? _Mack thought as he held his gaze. _Or is he just as concerned that our boy scout has gone off the grid? _"I've got nothing," Mack finally answered remorsefully.

"Nothing?" McCann prompted with a questioning shrug of his shoulders. "How was he before you sent him on break?"

"What are you asking?" Mack questioned the Charlie team lead. "Do you think he went rogue? That he has some counter mission?" The veins in Gerhardt's neck bulged out in anger, his jaw clenched trying to rein it all in.

"I'm asking if he was okay before he left!" McCann replied crisply. "Did he feel okay? Was he sick? Did he seem agitated?" McCann said plainly. "You spend nearly every waking minute with the guy; did you notice anything out of the ordinary?"

"NO!" Mack yelled sharply. "He was fine. I told him to take a break and he didn't come back." Gerhardt threw his hands up in frustration and paced around the small room.

"I checked the hospital, police department and walked the neighborhood," Carlito volunteered. "No one has seen him, no reports of unidentified males showing up anywhere."

"Okay, that's a start," McCann remarked nodding his head.

"As opposed to what?" Mack growled walking down the short hallway to the next room.

"As opposed to that head of yours that's stuck up your ass!" McCann yelled in his direction. The rattle of the knob cause the whole room to go on alert. All eyes and weapons trailed on the entrance as a tall blonde cruised through the door.

"Geezus I can hear your voices out in the street," Red Cap announced as she closed the door. She barely even flinched as she counted the weapons pointed at her head.

"Did you find anything out?" Mack demanded as he came around the corner from the hall.

"Yes," she said dropping down on the couch. She pulled a hair band out of her pocket and gathered her hair into a ball at the back of her head. "The bartender at Chicks said he was there last night."

"Chicks? The dike bar?" Carlito questioned her.

"Yes, but it's not really a dike bar," Bridgett replied. "They just hang out there.

"So, it's a bar that dike's hang out in," Anderson replied. "Hence a dike bar."

Red Cap scowled in Anderson's direction and pushed off the couch. The tension that had polluted the air hours ago was still there. Gerhardt looked like he was about to blow his top and McCann was gloating like a stuffed pig. "Anyway," she interrupted the boy banter bringing the topic back to Bob. "The bartender said he came in about one thirty. Ordered a drink, sat alone for about ten minutes and then was joined by a short red-head. About ten or fifteen minutes later, he ordered a second drink and had another woman at his side. Then he left with both of them after about twenty minutes."

"Boy Scout picked up two chicks?" Milsap chuckled shaking his head. "Getting his freak on." The young man punched the air with his fist and laughed a little harder.

"I don't believe it," Carlito replied. "We're talking about Bob "my wife is barefoot and pregnant all the time because I can't keep my hands off her" Brown."

"He wouldn't walk out on a mission," Gerhardt added.

"Stranger things have happened," Anderson piped in. "The lure of the one-eyed snake is pretty powerful at times."

"Not to Bob Brown," Mack reaffirmed.

"If all of you could hold your testosterone commentary and let me finish," Bridget blurted out. "As I was the leaving the bar, a patron came up to me and said the girls slipped our friend a mickey." She watched the demeanor on the six men change significantly.

"She just volunteered that information?" McCann asked suspiciously.

"Well, that's one of the benefits of wearing a Harley-Davidson t-shirt," Bridgett replied with a sly grin. Red Cap looked toward Gerhardt and winked at him. "The woman said he was loopy when he left, that the two women were helping him walk."

"That was one hell of a mickey," Carlito mumbled under his breath.

"Apparently these girls have a baby fetish," Bridget added. The comment garnered a wince from the men in the room.

"How many times could you get it up when you're high on a mickey?" Milsap asked with a grimace on his face.

"Depends on the motivation," Anderson muttered. "How hot were these girls?"

"Guys, forget it, that's not Brown's thing," Mack growled still annoyed that these four had been brought in to clean up his mess.

"Yeah, honestly it sounds like more of Carlito's thing," McCann agreed.

"Hey!" Carlito yelped with a shit-eating grin on his face.

"Hey!" Red Cap snapped when she had about had it with the testosterone-laced banter. "I need two of you to come with me," she ordered crisply. She looked toward Mack and Grey. "The woman showed me where one of them lived." She walked to the door with Carlito and Mack in tow and the three left the room.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Snake 3

A thunderstorm rolled in the background and gently called Bob from his sleep. Before opening his eyes, he listened as rain pelted the windows. _Windows, _he thought making a mental note. _The room is different, warmer, the bed is different,_ his mind raced, trying to make sense of it all. Bob shifted in his sleep and burrowed his head deeper into the pillow. He was comfortable against the sheets, yet had a searing headache that wasn't going to let up. Bob opened his eyes and watched as the room slowly came into focus.

_I smell Kim, _he mulled over as he took a deep breath and concentrated on the soft feel of the silk sheets that surrounded him. The musky floral scent of Kim's perfume invaded his nostrils as he turned his head to the right and snuggled his nose into her hair. Her warm naked body was coiled around his. _That was just a dream! More like a fricken nightmare! I have mission on the brain! _He brushed his lips across her forehead and whispered her name in her ear. _I need to feel her close to me, _he thought as he watched her eyes flutter opened. _I need to know everything is okay. _

"Kim," he whispered again running the fingers of his left hand down the side of her face.

"Hmmm, baby" she purred back to him, turning her face to his and finding his lips.

Their lips crashed together in a hungry furry of kisses. He could feel the heat between them building, and his body responded in kind. Her torso moved over his and before he could react, she was on him. impaling herself on his shaft. He plunged into her core, his organ driving through the molten lava to her center. She offered her breast to his mouth. As he sucked on her nipple, Kim reached above his head to a point she wouldn't allow him to see. She distracted him by pressing her breast deeper into his mouth, while thrusting more forcefully against him.

He felt a knot build in the small of his back and arched his head as his body reacted to her. Bob ran his left hand down the side of her torso to stop her movement on him as he pushed himself a little deeper into her core. His control slipped and the sensation began to paralyze his senses. Bob frantically thrust against his partner and blew his seed inside her.

"Ugh, fuck, Kim," he moaned, as his eyes rolled back in his head. Lightening lit up the sky outside the window and thunder rattled the bed, adding to the intensity of the moment. Bob could feel his wife still grinding against him, rocking another orgasm out of her soul. He tried to move his right hand to her hip and became acutely aware of the rope tied around his wrist. The panic he felt earlier flooded his mind just as an odd tingling sensation began to burn in his groin. He blinked several times to clear his vision and understand what was happening in the room.

_She's not my wife, _Bob surmised as his eyes tried to focus on the woman still riding his dick. His mind scrambled to make sense of it and he realized there were subtle differences that he had missed because of his desperate need for security. The feeling of her lips against him, the manner in which she touched him, it was all wrong. She touched him like a sex addict, hungry and frenzied. Her lips grazed across his and the final clue hit him square in the face. Her breath was minty fresh, not musky like morning breath. He took the opportunity to take action, latching on to her lip he bit down until he could taste her blood. She screamed out in pain, recoiling from the pain.

"You bastard!" she screamed at him and she backhanded him in response.

The slap did little to deter Bob from potential escape. He used his free arm to try to bat at the woman, finally fighting against his restraints. Bob managed to knock her to the side and kneed her in the stomach. The woman yelped in pain and rolled off the bed grabbing something from the table by the window. With three limbs restrained, he was no match for the raging female in the room. She lunged at Bob and managed to pin his free arm to the mattress.

A shard of lightening illuminated the room and let Bob catch the feral look in the woman's eye just as she stabbed a needle into his arm. While the ice-cold poison creeped into his veins and filtered slowly through his system, he held her gaze, his eyes locked on hers searching for some answers. He could tell she was conflicted and he would need to capitalize on that to earn his release. On a normal day, he would have thought she was pretty and he may have even flirted with her. _What has driven her to this? _he contemplated as his sight began to dim and his world went black.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Snake 4

"Got it," Mack reported to Red Cap as he came up the stairs. "Flashed my badge and my pearly whites and the manager told all."

"You have a badge?" Bridgett questioned the sergeant with a sneer.

"I have that military id that I found in cracker jack box," Mack joked. "The girl's name is Peggy Bailey. Twenty three, lives here with some guy."

"She lives with a guy and is obsessed with getting pregnant," Grey grumbled under his breath.

"I got the impression that he wasn't into girls too much," Mack said as he walked down the corridor to the door. Mack followed behind him.

"They could resort to the turkey baster method," Grey remarked.

"Hey!" Red Cap guffawed, taking offense to the comment.

"Hey what?" Mack said. "She'll be wishing she took that route when we get done with her." He glanced back at Bridgett and stopped just short of Ms. Bailey's door. Mack waved her to step across from him and nodded at Grey to knock on the door.

"Maintenance," Grey called out as he banged on the door. Rustling could be heard inside the apartment and the three shared a questioning glance. Grey pounded on the door again. "Maintenance."

"I didn't call you," a muffled voice answered through the door.

"Well, no shit," Grey growled. "Leasing office sent me up. Routine check on the air-conditioner."

"It's the middle of winter," the voice replied.

"Actually its four weeks til spring and then summer's just around the corner and then before you know it, it's hotter than snot and your air-conditioner is on the fritz," Grey rattled off.

"Can't you come back later?" the voice asked. "I'm not decent."

"Look lady, I got three hundred apartments to check today. Not tomorrow, not next week, so the sooner you open your door and let me in, the sooner you can get back to whatever you were doing five minutes ago," Carlito said loudly. He banged on the door again when the occupant failed to open it. "I'm not going away."

"Alright!" the female finally blurted out. The door flew open to reveal a disheveled blonde standing to the side. The annoyed expression on her face melted quickly when the three-team members barged through the door and manhandled her into a chair. "Who the frick are you?" she yelped as Red Cap pinned the woman's arms behind her back.

"You're worst nightmare," Mack growled. He stood in front of her with an intimidating pose about to lay into her about Bob, until Carlito got his attention.

"Dirt diver," Grey waved him down the hallway to the bedroom.

Mack peered into the room and took in the view. The bed sheets were rumpled, rope ties lay cut up on the floor. Blood stained the sheets and the carpet. A bucket of dirty water and a sponge sat off to the side. Mack walked around the side of the bed and noticed a foot sticking out from underneath the frame.

"Shit, Betty Blue," he called to Carlito looking down at the leg. He pointed to the floor with a grimace on his face and leaned over to pick up Bob's cell phone. Mack sighed heavily and tossed it on the mattress. He stepped back so he and Carlito could pull the body out from underneath the bed. The two men shared a look of relief when they realized it wasn't Bob.

"Defensive wounds," Grey said breaking the silence. He pointed to the slashes on the man's arms and chest.

"Neck's broke," Mack added standing up. He stepped over the body to the tanks that rested against the wall. "Nitrous oxide mixed with a mickey," he commented looking at Grey who had walked around the bed to the other side of the room. He watched the man take a black light out of his back pack and run it over the length of the sheets.

"Semen," Grey commented as he waved the light over one particular spot. He turned the light off and stowed it back in his bag.

Mack picked a pill bottle up from the metal table by the bed. "Viagra," he read squinting at the label. "How many times could you get it up with that kinda cocktail?" Dirt diver asked arching his brow. Mack fingered the IV tubing that was hanging off the stand by the table.

"Tied to the bed? Every man's fantasy," Carlito commented. "Except for Cool Breeze, that is." he added looking down at the floor. He noticed some plastic tubing sticking out of the dresser. Grey pulled the drawer open and picked up a half full urine collection bag.

"Yeah, just where the hell is he now?" Mack mumbled looking over to what Grey was holding in his hand.

"Wanna venture a guess who this belongs too?"

"We need to dump it," Mack commented nodding his head toward the door. He picked up the cell phone and shoved it in his pants pocket. "The feds don't have our fingerprints, but our DNA is probably hidden in some obscure military database. Take the sheets too."

"Got it," Grey said setting the pouch on the dresser and pulling the sheets off the bed.

"Who's the stiff under your bed?" Mack asked as he marched into the living room and took a position looming directly over the blonde.

"Who the hell are you?" the girl questioned defiantly. She glared at him and turned to look at Red Cap again.

Mack had no time for her antics. He tilted the chair back against the wall to such an angle that the only thing that stopped her from falling flat on her back was Mack's hand. "Does she know anything?" Mack asked Red Cap over his shoulder.

"Claims not too," Bridget replied.

"We're looking someone, someone I think you're familiar with," Mack growled right in her face. "Where is he?"

"Where is who?"

"Lady, you're trying to hide a dead guy under your bed. In a couple of days when he starts to stink, the cops are going to come and find your fingerprints are all over him and this room. It's not going to take long for the forensic experts to find that bloodstain on the floor or the semen stains on the sheets and figure out what the hell happened here," Mack remarked tersely.

"The only thing that happened is my roommate tried to rape me," she gurgled under her breath. "I killed him in self defense."

"You killed him?" Mack repeated letting go of her chair. He chuckled sadistically as the back of the chair crashed into the floor. "How exactly did you kill him?"

"I stabbed him," she retorted as she rolled off the chair and into a kneeling position on the floor. "The knife is in my pocket."

Mack motioned for Bridgett to retrieve the knife from the girl's pocket and looked up as Grey entered the room from the hallway. He watched as Grey snooped through her backpack and personal items.

"You killed him with this?" Bridget exclaimed fishing the small knife out the girl's jean pocket. Bridgett arched her brow as she looked at Mack and watched him shake his head. "Wanna try again? He didn't die from stab wounds."

"It doesn't matter, she's coming with us," Mack remarked picking the chair up from the floor. "I think Betty Blue can whip up a cocktail or two for her to drink."

"I'm not going anywhere with you," she blurted out as she tried to roll away from them. She noticed the gun in the holster at his waist and froze in her tracks.

Mack grabbed her arm and hauled her to her feet. "You have some explaining to do lady," he said sharply holding the pill bottle in front of her face. "You will come with us. You will tell us where your red-haired girl friend is holding the person we're looking for and you will not make a sound; otherwise you'll be facing federal charges for a variety of offenses, including kidnapping and murder."

"Life in prison," Grey reinforced from behind her back. He walked over, cut the zip ties from her wrists, and noticed the bruising on her arms. He grabbed a sweatshirt from the couch and threw it at her. "Put it on," he ordered her, noticing that she complied without argument.

"You're not the cops?" Bailey asked once she had donned the sweatshirt.

"We're federal agents," Red Cap replied ushering her to the door.

"I want to see your badge," Bailey demanded from Mack, refusing to walk another step.

"Is that going to change anything?" Mack asked quizzically. He looked over at Carlito just as his teammate flashed his military id in her face.

"I just want to know that I'm coming home alive," Bailey replied curtly as she glanced at the id and watched Grey shove it back in his pocket.

"You'll be back later," Red Cap replied flatly pushing her toward the door. "Whether you're alive or not is up to you."


	5. Chapter 5

Snake 5

Bob's body twitched against the mattress and he slowly opened his eyes. Making no movement with his torso or limbs, he assessed the room that held him captive. His eyes darted from wall to wall, corner to corner, from the window to the door taking in the view. His senses were on alert, listening carefully for any sound, any movement, and any breath besides his own. When he was sure he was alone, he breathed a sigh of relief and sunk into the mattress.

The comfort it afforded him was in contrast with his dire situation. He's senses were right about the different room. The furnishings were different, the smell was different, and the view was different. He had been moved to this place from the original room. _But by who? _he wondered. The woman? The woman that kept him here was young yet smart. _Very smart_. Playing on the sexual fantasies of every red- blooded man…tying him to a bed, traipsing around the room scantily clad in black lingerie or a naughty nurses uniform. She was attractive and physically appealing. Resisting her advances was difficult and she preyed on his inability.

She had come again just hours ago. Under the premise of giving him a massage, she played mind games with him, drugged him with whatever was in that IV. She lured him into a false sense of security. She was gentle and erotic, teasing him with her body, her hands, and her lips. It took all of his will to resist her advances. Remembering his training, he went to that place in his mind that blocked out all logical thought, that place he went to when he was being tortured, that place he went to when he tried to separate his duty from his life with Kim.

In the end, the female won out. As her need for fulfillment reached its boiling point, her hunger became uncontrollable. She attacked him using her body as a weapon and, when she didn't get the results she desired, she lashed out at him with her fingernails and fists. He didn't even fight back, not that he could if he wanted too. Besides being restrained to the bed frame at the wrists and ankles, he was weakened by the lack of food and water, not to mention the drugs in his system. He was acutely aware of the ice cold liquid that invaded his veins and the sensations it produced in him. The tingly, odd, out of control feeling overpowered his judgment and ripped apart his defenses. He had learned quickly that the best defense he had was to lie there and endure whatever she dished out until it was over and she was gone. His solace was the solitude as it settled around him, allowing himself to contemplate his situation and determine his means to escape.

"Kim," he mumbled aloud. The memory of his wife flooded his mind, her sassy brown hair and the multitude of questions. As the memories enveloped him, his brain began to tune in sounds that he had previously blocked. Suddenly, he could hear birds chirping outside the windows and felt a cool breeze tease his skin. He turned his head toward the window and realized one had been left open about an inch. He blinked as the natural light filled the room and scanned his surroundings as if seeing them for the first time.

_The first time as a soldier, _he thought as he thought about escape. He lifted his head from the pillow and tested the resistance of the restraints. _If I put a little effort in this I could get free, _he contemplated looking up at the bed frame. The wood frame he was tied to had to have some give ….._with the right amount of pressure._ He pulled his left arm forcefully toward his feet attempting to break the wooden slat of the headboard. The attempt lasted only a few minutes, his strength dwindling quickly. A headache flooded over him and he suddenly felt weak and dizzy.

"I feel like crap!" he said aloud to no one wincing in pain from the headache and the abdominal cramping that had started up. He looked up at the IV bag hanging over his head and found the bag empty. "Well, no wonder," he mumbled rolling his head to the side. He tried to focus his mind, thinking of countless mental exercises he had taught himself to use when he needed to resist.

"Energetically I will meet the enemies of my country. I shall defeat them on the field of battle because I am better trained and will fight with all my might. Surrender is not a ranger word." Bob whispered the verse of the ranger creed and repeated the last stance in his head. _Surrender is not a ranger word. _"I've been held hostage by enemies twice the size of this woman, in strongholds fortified with weapons and I have escaped on my own power." He took a deep breath and stared blankly at the ceiling. "I'm going to escape this place on my own power."

00-00

Peggy Bailey squirmed in the chair and pulled against the bindings that held her in place. She cursed herself for getting into this mess in the first place. _Let's just snag this guy for a quickie, _she thought with a scowl on her face. _Some quickie. I'm so tanked it's not funny. I tried to hide a dead guy under my bed, Sharon kidnapped a federal agent and six guys with guns are circling me like piranhas. _Peggy looked up and scanned the room. She couldn't find a word to describe how wheat toast these guys looked. _They're practically clones! Same buzz cut, same clothes, same voice, _she rattled off in her head. _Well, except the blonde chick and the Mexican. In the rare event they aren't who they say they are…who the hell is going to believe what happened to me. I might as well say aliens abducted me! _Peggy shook her head and chuckled quietly at the irony of her situation.

"Something funny that you'd care to share?" Red Cap asked crisply walking over to where Peggy was sitting.

"Pfft," Peggy sighed quietly. "This whole damn thing is a joke," she chuckled.

"Yeah? Well, I think we're the ones going to be having the last laugh," Bates chuckled sadistically as he walked over to her chair. He wrapped some rubber around her arm and tapped her forearm to pop the vein.

"What are you doing?" Peggy questioned with fear of god expression on her face. "What is that?" she asked trying unsuccessfully to pull her arm away from him.

"Just a little dose of mifepristone," Bates replied prepping the needle.

"What?" Peggy wailed looking up at him.

"Better known in most circles as RU-486," Carlito piped in walking toward the chair.

"Rewe," Peggy gasped trailing her gaze from one male to the next and then settling on Red Cap. "That's the abortion pi…. No! You aren't going to stick me with that! I'm trying to get pregnant. I might have gotten knocked up last night."

"With your roommate?" Mack questioned her circling her chair.

"Give me a break, that guy couldn't get it up for a girl if he was drugged," Peggy muttered under her breath. "Ow!" she whimpered as Bates stuck the syringe in her arm.

"Couldn't get it up if he was drugged?" Mack repeated. "Was that before or after he ended up dead under your bed?" He waved his hands around in wide gestures to make his point. "I'm just trying to understand what exactly happened in your apartment."

"What does it matter to you?" Peggy growled as Carlito released the band on her arm. "He was nobody important."

"The guy under your bed was nobody important," Carlito replied. "The guy that _was_ in your bed is another matter entirely."

"What are you talking about? They are one in the same!"

"Really?" Carlito chuckled pulling a glass slide out of his shirt pocket and waving it in front of her face. "Are you saying I don't need to run a DNA analysis on this semen sample?"

"Because _they _are one and the same?" McCann asked stepping over in the mix with Gerhardt, Sullivan, Bates and Grey.

Peggy sucked in some air and looked anywhere but at the four men in front of her. "What was the question again?" she stammered, feeling like a hundred cotton balls were stuck in her mouth.

"Was this the man that was in your bed last night?" the Charlie team lead asked holding his cell phone in front of her face. The picture on the display was Bob Brown. They watched her face flush hot and had all the answer they needed to know.

"No," she replied trying to keep up the touch girl act.

"We have two witnesses that have identified you leaving Chicks bar with him," Mack said flatly tilting her chair backward again, so she was nearly falling over.

"What's it to you anyway?" Peggy practically cried out.

"None of your concern," Bates replied.

"Oh, well, there is that one thing," Carlito offered with a sheepish grin on his face.

"I thought we weren't going to bring that up?" McCann replied rubbing his hand across his brow.

"Well, if she slept with him, she has a right to know," Grey said trying to be diplomatic.

"What?" Peggy blurted out in a panic.

"Naah, forget it," Mack said pushing the chair back upright. "She told us in the apartment that her roommate tried to rape her … that's why she whacked him." Mack walked across the room and leaned against the table. "She didn't sleep with our guy."

"What?" Peggy demanded looking up at the four men. "For the sake of argument, let's just say that I did sleep with him."

"Oh, well, I hope you used a condom," Red Cap replied.

"In case you haven't been listening, I'm trying to get pregnant so why the hell would I use a condom?" Peggy growled getting her nerve up again.

"Sexually transmitted disease," Mack commented slowly, enunciating each word as it came out of his mouth. He walked back over to her chair and tilted in back again to look her straight in the eye. "You do know what that is don't you?"

"He was sick?" Peggy moaned closing her eyes.

"Hmmm, yeah, he's sick alright," Carlito remarked tisking his lips. "We could give you a shot…"

"Don't be offering any remedies to her," Red Cap retorted pacing around behind Mack. "Unless, of course, she wants to tell us where our man is," she added.

"What makes you think I know?" Peggy muttered under her breath.

"Based on the pharmacy hanging above your bed, it's clear that he didn't leave on his own power," Mack growled grabbing a fistful of hair and pulling her head back. "Perhaps he left with a certain red-head?" He let go of her hair and roughly pushed her head to the side.

"Your friend planning on sleeping with him too?" Bridgett practically cooed in Peggy's ear. "You wouldn't want her to get sick would you?"

"If I tell you were she took him, you'll give me something so I don't get sick?" Peggy asked anxiously

"Are you saying you know he is?" Mack asked tersely getting really sick of this charade they were playing.

Peggy trailed her gaze at the seven gun-welding opponents in the room. "I could show you."

Mack leaned over, cut the zip ties on her wrist, and hauled Peggy to her feet. "Off you go then," he remarked shoving her toward the door.

"And you'll give me the medicine?" Peggy asked as she stumbled over her feet.

"We'll have to see about that," Carlito replied dryly.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

Snake 6

The relentless coughing echoed through the near empty room. Every fiber of his conscious told him to run, but he couldn't move. He could barely stand. _Shit! _he cursed as he staggered out of the small bathroom into the hallway. Bob stumbled into the living room and found his jeans and shirt lying on the back of the couch.

"Clothes," he mumbled leaning against the wall. "What the fuck was her plan for me?" he whispered under his breath while trying to shove his leg into his pants. "Fuck me and let me go?" Bob questioned looking down at his dick. Raw hardly described the looks of it. He resisted the urge to scratch. "God only knows what she gave me," he growled pulling his pants the rest of the way up, to rest low on his hips.

He pulled the shirt over his head and scanned the room for a clock. _Thirteen hundred, _he noted staring at the ugly rooster head above the sink. _Five check-ins late, _he reminded himself. "Dirt-diver's probably freaked," he mumbled as he pushed off the wall and headed into the next room. "I need water."

Brown walked to the sink and flicked on the faucet. He leaned in and sucked at the water, letting it run down the side of his face and slide down his throat. He swished the cool liquid around in his mouth and spat it back into the sink. Bob leaned against the counter, his head dropped in his arms as he gasped for breath.

"Fuck," he cursed as his stomach lurched and he coughed the water back into the sink. A searing headache pounded behind his eyes. "Shit," he gasped running his hand over his head. He turned to the right when something caught his eye and saw a pill bottle sitting on the counter. He grabbed the bottle and squinted at the label practically laughing when he recognized the word.

"Viagra," he snorted pushing into a standing position. "No wonder I couldn't control it," he hissed whipping the bottle at the wall. The lid popped off at the impact and the pills ricocheted in every direction.

"This is going to be one hell of a debrief," he growled looking around the small kitchen for a weapon. _I need to get out of here, _he thought palming a paring knife. _Wherever here is, _he added as an afterthought heading for the door.

00-00

Five car doors slammed shut and one female yelp out a short cry of protest in front of the rustic cabin at the end of the lane.

"This is where your friend took him?" Mack asked as he roughly handled Peggy by the arm. He pulled her out from behind the door and pushed it shut behind her.

"Ouch!" Peggy cried, struggling to get away from him. "Get your hands off me!"

"You're not in a position for making demands," Bridgett informed crisply. "Answer the question."

Peggy eyed the two of them and sunk back against the Suburban. "We brought him here after …," her voice trailed off and she looked at the ground.

"After what?" Red Cap demanded.

"After he tried to escape," she whispered still looking at the ground.

"More kidnapping charges?" Mack remarked pulling a pair of cuffs out of his pocket.

"He came here willingly," Peggy retorted at Mack cuffed her to the steering wheel of the truck.

"I'll bet," Mack snarled looking over at Milsap. "Stay with her," he ordered as the rest of the team stormed the house.

The team members cleared the house in less than five minutes. There were more signs of confinement and traces of Cool Breeze, but again no Bob anywhere. The frustration level was clear on everyone's face.

"Where the frick is he?" Mack growled practically punching the wall. This whole fricken mess was getting completely out of hand and Bob's blood was becoming stained on Dirt Diver's shirt.

"Okay stop," McCann called out as he came down the hall holding an IV bag and a vial of medication in his hand. "Take a breath and think about it. This isn't your average saline solution," he said tossing the IV bag at Bates. "This?" he held up the vial. "Is a tranquilizer."

"He was drugged," Bridgett said stating the obvious.

"There's barf in the tub and the sink," Carlito agreed.

"The slats on the bed frame are broken," McCann added.

"So he was here. He got free and ran," he muttered under his breath as he headed toward the back door.

"This vial is half empty, if she dosed him all at once, he'd be shaky on his feet," Bates yelled at the back of Mack's head. Charlie team followed Mack and Carlito out the back door of a cottage. A quick perimeter search came up with nothing, but a wet footprint on a sidewalk.

"He's less than a minute ahead of us. The grass is flattened. He's headed for the tree-line," Carlito remarked crouching down by the footprint. He pointed in front of him toward the woods and that was all it took to put Mack into motion.

00-00

The voices above him rang teased his memory like an out of tune song. _I know those voices, _Bob told himself in an attempt to force his body to relax. Yet it didn't work, his instinct was to burrow deeper into the cover for protection.

"Betty Blue," the gruff voice of Dirt Diver called over his head. "Got some gloves?"

"Yeah, what do you need'em for?" Grey said as he got closer to Cool Breeze. "Oh shit, geezus."

"Cool Breeze can you hear me?" Mack's graveled voice called to his teammate "Cool Breeze?"

Bob inhaled sharply and tried to open his eyes. He felt his eyelashes flutter over his cheek, but he couldn't keep them open. His limbs were heavy with fatigue. Dehydrated to the extreme, Bob couldn't even formulate the words in his mouth to let Mack know he knew they had found him. Everything echoed around him, the rustling of the branches he was hiding under, the sound of his breath in her ear, his heart pounding in his chest. The hollow intonation of his teammates as they spoke reverberated in his head like a dying wail.

"Red Cap get the hose ready," Mack yelled to the warrant officer standing just outside the tree line.

"What's wrong?" she asked not understanding his request.

"Leaves of three ring any bells?" Mack replied.

"Geezus, didn't he learn anything in the Ranger'sl?" Bates grumbled under his breath. "We need to hose him down and get him outta those clothes."

Bob heard the voice of the Charley team medic in the distance. _Leaves of three? I'm in a patch of somethiing? Geezus can my life get any worse? _Bob questioned just as he felt hands grabbing at his limbs.

"Don't move Cool Breeze. Keep your arms at your side," Carlito's voice directed him calmly. "Dirt diver and I are going to get you out of there."

"But don't touch me buddy," Mack half joked. "We don't need two of us covered in a big ole rash."

The action of his teammates getting him out of the hiding spot, helping him to the open where they striped him down and hosed him off was nearly lost on Bob and his fried memory. The cold shower did little to wake him and the only salvation was the three bottles of water that Mack practically forced down his throat. Bob barfed most of it back up in front of his friends, modesty wasn't exactly an option.

The next few minutes were a blur of garbled transmissions between the two team leads and the rest of the crew. Conversations about the girl, Red Cap and the clean up that needed to occur was just static in his ear while he fumbled to pull a clean pair of jeans and a dry t-shirt over his head. The movement was hampered by his sluggish movement and uncontrollable trembling, and while Betty Blue was trying to help, the man did nothing more than get in his way.

"Get Cool Breeze to the safe house before he catches pneumonia," McCann said in the distance. "We'll catch up later."

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

Snake 7

Bob coughed the last of his stomach contents into the toilet and slumped back against the wall. He dropped his head to his chest, resting his forehead on the plaster cast on his right arm and gulped in big breaths of air. He barely registered the cold towel that his teammate put on the back of his neck or the flushing of the toilet in the background.

"I don't know what's making me sicker," Bob gasped turning his head to the side. "The drugs in my system or what I'm going to tell Kim."

"More than likely a combination of the two," Mack's voice echoed above him.

"How long have I been here?" Bob whispered hoarsely tilting his head back against the wall. He watched Mack warily as he filled a syringe with some type of medication and swallowed hard as his team lead cleared the bubbles. The needle gave him the creeps and yet the sight of it mesmerized him. _First heroin, now ecstasy, _Bob closed his eyes and mentally shook his head. _I'm becoming a straight up junkie. _

Mack turned his wrist to look at his watch. "Four hours," Gerhardt remarked squatting down next to Brown. "Neck or arm?" he asked holding the syringe in his hand.

Bob ducked his head out of Mack's reach. "Wha…what is it?" he questioned holding his hand up to block Dirt Diver's approach.

"Well Einstein," Mack chuckled. "Since you decided to take a nap in the poison ivy patch, this will hopefully stop you from ripping your skin off later. Didn't they teach you in the boy scouts about plant life? You know, leaves of three let them be?"

"I must have missed that day," Bob replied breathlessly. He rolled his head to the side allowing Mack access to his neck and winced as the needle pierced the skin. "Maybe that's what making me sick," he mumbled as Mack took the compress off his neck.

"Your head is making you sick," Mack replied hooking his arm under Bob's and pulling the man to his feet. He wrapped his arm around his back and helped Bob out of the bathroom down the hall to the bedroom. "You're over thinking it," Mack grunted as the two cleared the doorway of the room and he slipped Bob down on the bed. "I'm going to need to start an IV to rehydrate you," he remarked reaching over to the nightstand to pick up the equipment.

"No, no needles," Bob balked shaking his head. "I can barely stand that…," Bob's voice trailed off and he waved his hand in the air. "I can't do it," he mumbled running his hands over his head.

"I wasn't asking sergeant," Mack said flatly with a _no arguments _tone. He wrapped the tourniquet around Bob's forearms and tapped the back of his hand to pop the vein.

"I feel like crap," Bob announced staring down at the floor.

"You aren't going to barf again are you?" Mack questioned as he rubbed an alcohol pad over the site and pushed the needle into the vein. When he saw the flash in the catheter, he pulled the needle out, secured the line with tape, and set up the IV bag.

"Bob?" Mack called to Brown when he noticed the color draining from his teammates face and the quick heavy breathing. He reached for the garbage can and shoved it in front of Bob's face just in time to catch the puke. He put a hand on Bob's shoulder, holding him up as the man gagged on his own saliva.

"Shit," Bob choked. He slumped against the mattress. He rolled his head back on his neck and stared took a bunch of short breaths. "Is it ever going to stop?"

"Everything stops at some point," Mack said walking out of the room with the trashcan.

"Yeah, when you're dead," Bob muttered falling the rest of the way to the mattress. The room fell silent as Bob contemplated the reality of what had happened to his since last night. In the distance, he could hear the shower running and the toilet flush and then Mack shuffle back into the room.

"What am I going to tell Kim?" Bob gasped, pushing down another wave of dry heaves.

"You could tell her nothing, treat it like a normal mission," Dirt Diver remarked gruffly. "Or you could tell her what really happened."

"That two little girls overpowered me and played out some sex fantasy?" Bob retorted his voice heavy with sarcasm. "She isn't going to believe that."

"Then tell her the truth," Mack said quietly. "That you were raped."

Bob shook his head and covered his eyes with his arm. "Guys like us don't get raped," he groaned trying to sort out what happened to him the past thirty-six hours.

"That's where you wrong my friend," Mack said slowly. "Guys like us get raped more times that we'll ever admit. You were lucky this time. It was a couple of bitches that were just trying to get knocked up. Next time it could hurt ten times worse and rip your damn heart right out of your chest."

Brown listened to his friend and heard the unspoken words loud and clear. He wondered how many times Mack had done this debrief on a teammate and how many times Mack himself had been in his shoes.

00-00

Dirt Diver was kicked back in the chair, resting his eyes as Bob slept in the bed next to him. He was hardly asleep, keeping all senses on high alert for anomalous activity from Cool Breeze. It had been six hours since they found him at the cabin. The vomiting had finally subsided, but abdominal cramps and diarrhea still plagued his friend. His breathing was labored, fever and chills riddled his body and the man shook uncontrollably at times. Mack had poured four bags of IV solution into him, most of which was sweated out onto the sheets.

_Guys like us get raped more times that we'll ever admit. _The words echoed in Mack's head as he looked over at Bob, listening carefully for his wheezing breath. There was a lot of ways to be raped on this job, physically, mentally, emotionally. Bob had the unfortunate luck of having all three occur at once. Mack winced as he thought about Bob's experience. _She played me, right into her hand,_ Bob had told him. He couldn't resist. Try as he might, the drugs in his system over-road his instinct to employ the biofeedback training that was second nature to him. The woman played on every true-blooded male fantasy and twisted it to the limit.

Gerhardt sighed heavily and dropped his foot to the floor. He leaned forward in the chair and ran his hand over the bridge of his nose. _I don't know what the hell I'd do in his place. Would I tell Tiffy? Would she understand? _Mack rested his arms on his thighs and stared at the floor blankly. _Bob is faithful, I've screwed around. Kim would get it. Tiffy? She would probably use it against me to file for divorce. _The irony floored him, and he smirked at the thought.

Like brothers, there was this unspoken understanding between them. Men got stuff like that easily. Women? Women like the drama of the fight. Bob had left that crappy apartment yesterday angry with Mack for his stubborn arrogance. Today, there was no contempt between them. A shared moment of silence had explained away all that needed to be said about whatever happened. Bob was right yesterday and today Mack had saved his ass. _And held the trash can while he puked. __We get it like that, _Mack repeated in his head.

The click of the front door had Mack on his feet in the blink of an eye. He quietly stepped into the hall and met Carlito as he walked through the living room.

"How is he?" Grey asked dropping his backpack on the chair.

"Sick," Mack replied leaning against the wall.

"He still pukin?"

"No, but he has stomach cramps and the runs," Mack answered. "And a temp of one oh two. His face is starting to swell a little and he's wheezing."

"I figured as much," Grey replied pulling his cell phone out of his pocket. "We need to get him to the hospital. McCann got the toxicology report back on the IV bag. It had trace amounts of rat poison in the mix," he said barely taking a breath. "Red Cap, pull around the back, we're coming out," Carlito said into the line. "What have you given him?"

"Four bags of fluid and three doses of corticosteroid," Mack remarked turning to walk back to Brown's room. "Define trace amounts."

"Enough to make him sick, not enough to kill him," Betty Blue replied as he followed Mack. "That was her intention though. That's how she killed her last victim."

"Her last victim?" Mack questioned stepping into the room. He could still hear Bob's wheezing from the bed. "Why cast his arm if she just wanted to kill him?"

"I don't know, maybe she's into playing doctor. PD found an off duty cop floating downstream from the cabin about a month ago. Dosed with a lethal injection of rat poison after being assaulted," Carlito said walking into the room. "They didn't have a bead on the killer until today. She's into the military buzz cut type." Grey put the back of his hand on Brown's forehead and then slid his hand down his neck to take his pulse.

"She in custody?" Mack asked standing by the bed.

"Yeah. The colonel's cleaning it up. She's a mean ole cuss for only being twenty two," Carlito said moving some stuff around so it was easier to get Bob out of the bed. "She beat the piss out of Anderson before we could get her restrained. Cool Breeze can you hear me?"

They watched Bob twitch in his sleep and his eyelids flutter open. "Bob," Mack said shaking his shoulders. He knelt on the bed to pull him into a sitting position. "Come on man, time to get up."

"Geez," Bob half hiccupped and gasped as he tried to focus on the men in front of him.

"Bob?" Betty Blue called to him again as he unhooked the IV bag. "Can you hear me?"

"Cool Breeze look at me," Mack said grabbing Brown's chin with his hand. He flicked his flashlight in his eyes and noticed the glassed over response. "Are you with me?"

"Yeah," Bob squeaked out.

"I'm not convinced," Carlito remarked pulling a pack of smelling salts out of his pocket. He waved them under Bob's nose and watched as he head snapped back on his neck. "Cool Breeze, do you know who I am?" Carlito prompted his friend.

"ettylue," Bob replied slurring his words. "I gotttaeee."

"Why does that not surprise me?" Mack replied stepping off the bed to help Bob stand. "I got em, Carlito," he said draping Bob's arm across his shoulders. "Our packs are in the hallway. Make sure Red Cap is ready with the car."

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

A/N Sorry, had to repost to fix something .... and I had to do it on screen because I didn't bring my jump drive to the library ... so any typos are the big oops!! Too bad this editor doesn't have grammar check.

Snake 8

"Sergeant Brown!"

The words reverberated in his head like a broken record. He winced at the sound of it as a searing headache began to burn behind his eyes. _Yeah, that's my name alright! Go ahead say it a little louder, because I didn't quite hear you the first eighteen thousand times you said it! _Bob rolled restlessly on the bed. His mind began to wander aimlessly, the thoughts flooding his head in sensory overload.

_Sergeant First Class Bob Brown. In my life before the army, I was plain ole Bob Brown. Women thought I was boring, a book worm, normal. Then in a blink of an eye, I adopted the title of Sergeant. Not just any ole Sergeant, Special Operations Sergeant First Class….specifically Alpha Team Sergeant First Class. That's just one of my identities. The official one, the one that somehow morphed from my title to my name. It's the army equivalent of "hey you" and I friggen answer to it. It's the "hey, I'm too lazy to really remember your name," the "I don't know your name and I don't care, name", the "I think I know you but I suck at names" … or the "I don't know you at all, but want to pretend I do" or even better "your bald head just blinded me and I'm star struck name". _

Bob shifted his position on the bed and felt the resistance on his left wrist again. _Crap! _he cursed as he tried to move his left arm. _Did I friggen dream that whole escape from the bedroom? The whole Mack holding the trashcan in front of my face as I barfed my guts out? There is no way I'm still laying in that bed!!! No, no, no, I escaped. I broke the slat in the headboard, I found my jeans and shirt in the living room, and ran into the tree line. I had a weapon on me, so how the hell is it that I'm tied down to this bed again? _

_Is that a rope on my arm? No wait, that doesn't feel like a handcuff. It's more like a…a leather strap,_ Bob considered as he tried to open his eyes and look down. His eyelids were heavy and he couldn't keep them open. His face felt puffy and thick.

_Am I blindfolded again? _he mused after another futile attempt to open his eyes. He began to tune in his other senses as he assessed his surroundings. _This isn't the same bed. It's harder and crinkles like a …. I hear beeps….I'm on oxygen again. I'm in a hospital, _he concluded feeling panic starting to set in. _But if I'm in a hospital why is my skin crawling? _Bob jerked his arm against his restraint and began to thrashing around on the bed in another attempt to break free. He could feel hands touching his arms and legs and he began to scream loudly.

"Get your hands off me! Help me!"

"Sergeant Brown!"

The ice cold liquid flooded his veins just as he heard his name called in the distance. His limbs became heavy and his control began to slip as he started to laugh uncontrollably. _Wow! _he thought to himself. _Yelling is so liberating! _As he drifted off to sleep, a parting conscious thought invaded his head. _Who the frick keeps saying my name?_

00-00

Colonel Tom Ryan stepped out of the elevator and marched down the corridor of the base hospital to the wing that held his operator. He turned the corner and slowed his gait when he saw Mack Gerhardt asleep in a chair. He hesitated for a moment and walked the final few steps to his operator.

"Mack," Ryan said loud enough to wake the man up. True to his training, Mack didn't even flinch when he heard his name.

"Colonel," he responded standing up out of respect.

"How is he?" Ryan asked inclining his head to Brown's door.

"Squared away," Mack answered crossing his arms at his chest. "The doc said they'll release him tomorrow as long as the swelling goes down."

Colonel Ryan eyed his master sergeant carefully seeing the fatigue in his eyes. Without asking he knew Mack had stayed at Brown's side, working through this debrief, wrapping it up, making it right.

"What happened to your hand?" the colonel asked when he noticed Mack's bandaged palm.

"Agh, battle wound," Mack replied sheepishly turning over his palm. He shoved his hand under his arm to hide the bandage.

"Battle wound?" Ryan repeated. "I don't remember that in your report. Something you need to tell me?" Ryan asked, his eyes cold as ice.

"He bit me," Dirt Diver finally fessed up. "He was a little confused earlier and my hand was in the wrong place at the wrong time," he replied shrugging his shoulders.

Ryan arched his brow and nodded. "You look like hell sergeant. When was the last time you slept?"

"A few days ago," Mack answered. "I need to see this through Colonel."

"And I need you on the top of your game," Colonel Ryan remarked sharply. "Get some rest and not in that chair. That's an order."

00-00

Bob pulled nervously against the wrist restraints as he stared up at the ceiling and IV bag hanging above him. Whatever _they _were pumping into his body was continuing the endless out of control feeling he had been plagued with since those two chicks lured him out of the bar. He didn't feel comfortable in this room, he barely felt comfortable in his skin. Every time someone entered this cell-like space, his heart felt like it was going to leap out of his chest. When they walked to his bed, he started to sweat, if they touched him, he initial instinct was to freeze and then he wanted to bolt from the room, from the building, from his life. The friction of his skin against the sheets was equally unnerving. The urge to scratch overwhelmed his senses as the invisible bugs crawled over his arms, the side of his neck and face, and his back.

And his dick. Bob winced at the memory of the girl screwing him and the sensation of the skin scraping off his shaft. Then there was the swab the nurse did to check for any sexually transmitted diseases or that mega shot of that secret military strength medication that killed AIDS and anything else a whore could contaminate a guy with. Every movement over his dick or even just the thought of it sent an electric jolt right into Bob's brain. And peeing? Well, that was another matter entirely. Those two times he ripped the tubing out of the one eye snake had some dire consequence for his bladder. Bob could barely endure the a nature call as the pain sliced through him and seared every last nerve ending like it was grilling in a four hundred degree oven.

_SERE school's got nothing on this, _Bob muttered to himself as the bleeps of the monitoring equipment wore thin on his nerves. _I can't stand it anymore, _he thought clenching his jaw. He eyed the restraints on his arms and strategized a way to set himself free. He tugged on his left arm, sawing it against the mattress to loosen the strap. Bob leaned over and tried to bite at the tubing in a desperate attempt to pull it from his arm.

Voices from the corridor startled him and he eyed the doorway suspiciously. His instincts were conflicted. He wanted to bask in the comfort of his hospital room, but his recent experiences had forced him to be cautious. He continued to bite at the tubing and was oblivious to the door as it swung open.

"If you are hungry, call the nurse, soldier" Colonel Ryan called out to him as he walked through the door. "I'm sure lime jello would taste better than that plastic tubing."

Bob slumped against the mattress in defeat. He mouthed words that never made it to lips, trying to explain himself to the man in charge. He closed his eyes, mortified to even be in this man's presence. _My commanding officer knows that I was over-powered by two chicks, drugged, tied to a bed and fucked raw, _he reminded himself sharply.

"Do you need some water?" Ryan asked reaching for the pitcher on the night stand. He poured the liquid into a Styrofoam cup and stepped closer to the bed.

Bob opened his eyes and reluctantly took the straw into his lips, sucking the cool liquid down. Humiliation hardly described the emotions bubbling just under the surface of Bob's entire being. _I can't look this guy in the eye, _Bob thought as he half closed his eyes. "Thank you," he mumbled laying his head against the pillow. It was the best he could do considering the shame that covered his face.

"I've put in the order for four counseling sessions with the unit psychologist," Ryan rattled off as he put the cup on the nightstand.

_Counseling sessions? _The words scared the crap out of Bob. He didn't need some shrink crawling around in his head. "I dough… I don't need that sir," Bob mumbled, his tongue feeling like it was swollen twice its normal size.

"I'm sure you don't, but in this new army it's a requirement for all sexual assaults," Colonel Ryan said flatly.

Bob sucked in some air as he mind raced to process what the colonel was saying._ Sexual Assault? Now I'm a victim? _He was one of a few elite men in the army, special training to the hilt. Bob wasn't the kind of guy that got into this kind of mess. Yet here he was, laying on a hospital bed, restrained for his own protection and facing his commanding officer.

"I know this isn't the easiest thing for you to process son," Ryan said quietly. "Trust me when I say that many have been here before you. Take the counseling and put it to bed."

"And Kim?" Bob muttered rolling his head back on the pillow.

"What you tell her is up to you, but my suggestion is you leave it within the mission," Ryan remarked. "The police have enough on that pair to keep your name out of it. You're involvement it in didn't even make the papers."

_Didn't even make the papers. _The words swirled around in Brown's head. _That's unit speak for not in the official report. My rape is nothing but a causality of the mission, _he guessed reading between the lines. The words were different, but the Colonel's message was the same at Mack's speech earlier today. What happened to him had happened to others. Maybe he was the lucky one, since it was a chick that rode him raw, not a guy ramming it home. In any case, Bob had to figure out a way to deal with it before he went home to his other life.

"When will I be released?"

"Tomorrow as long your airway stays clear," the colonel said. "You're having an allergic reaction to the drugs and the irritation from the poison ivy isn't helping. If you'd stop trying to rip a hole in your skin, I could get the docs to remove the restraints," he added pointing to the leather holding Bob's arms in place.

"My skin's crawlin," Bob mumbled through his swollen lips.

"Remember that the next time you try to take cover," Ryan replied with a chuckle. "The first time I encountered the leaves of three I was in boot camp and my drill instructor was none too sympathetic."

"This isn't my first experience with it," Bob grimaced at the sudden memory.

"And you didn't learn? I'll have to note that in your permanent file," the colonel chuckled.

"I think there is enough in my permanent file, sir," Brown whispered under his breath. He adjusted on the bed again and rolled his head on his neck.

"Get some rest, Brown," Ryan said solemnly. "Soon this will be nothing but a distant memory."

Bob nodded his head and watched the colonel leave the room. _A distant memory? Tucked into that place with all the other atrocities I've endured? _"That's where it needs to go and fast," Bob said aloud. "Before that shrink labels me as whacked."

00-00

"You're looking better," Bridgett said as she walked through the door to Brown's room a day later. She found Bob sitting up in bed, picking at a tray of food with free hands. "You keeping any of that down?"

"Chicken broth and wheat toast?" Bob commented pushing the tray away. "It hasn't come up." He shrugged his shoulder leaning against the mattress. He watched her sit down in the chair by his bed. "Thank you, Bridge."

"For what?" she asked with a confused look on her face.

"Mack said me you got the intel that found me," Bob said.

"Ah, that," Bridgett mumbled quietly "Well, since I made a mess of the mission up to that point, I figured I owed Mack some redemption."

"You didn't make a mess of the mission," Bob informed her. "The intel was bad."

"I didn't do anything to make it better," Bridgett argued. "I feel so …helpless around you guys sometimes."

"You want to talk about feeling helpless? Try being tied to a bed by a girl and teased beyond comprehension with a naughty nurses uniform," Bob replied with a sad smirk on his face. "For you...that would be like Brad Pitt making you his sex slave."

"Brad Pitt's not my type," she commented with a sad smile.

"I thought he was every girl's type," Bob muttered.

"Hmm, nope," Red Cap replied with a shake of her head. "He creeps me out, ever since I saw him in Kalifornia."

Bob furrowed his brow and tilted his head. "Kalifornia?"

"Yeah, with David Duchovny. It's about a graduate student's quest to study serial killers. He picks up a hitchhiker to share the gas … Brad Pitt … and the hitchhiker turns out to be a serial killer." Bridget shuddered at the memory of the movie.

"Let me guess you're more into the noble type," Bob remarked looking over at her.

"I'm not really sure what my type is." Bridgett looked everywhere in the room but his eyes. "I kinda gave up looking. Too complicated."

"Yeah, relationships are complicated," Bob sighed. He looked up at the ceiling and closed his eyes. "They don't get any better when you're married."

Bridgett bit her lip as she watched Bob and the gamut of emotions ripple across his face. _Way to go Bridge, just add another layer of screw up on this mission,_ she scolded herself. "Sorry," she muttered under her breath.

"There's nothing to apologize for Bridge," Bob said.

"If I hadn't screwed up the…you and Mack wouldn't have gotten into the fight…"

"Hey, stop," he said sharply. "You weren't the cause. Mack and I fight all the time on missions…and it's not fighting, it's more like alpha wolves trying to determine our place in the pack."

"All the time?"

"Yeah, it's ... ha," Bob laughed for the first time in a day. "It's part of our mission ritual."

"Is it part of your ritual to get pissed off and walk out?" Bridgett asked him with an arched brow.

"Pissed off … yes," Bob said with a sigh. "If you'll remember, I didn't walk out. You ordered to me to get some air."

"Get some air yes," Red Cap retorted. "Get yourself kidnapped, no."

"Well, yeah, I didn't exactly plan on that either," Bob replied sheepishly. "I don't know what I was thinking going into that bar. I just pfft … I dunno." Bob slumped his head back on the pillow and twisted his lip.

"We can just leave it at that," Bridgett said firmly. "Another of our secrets. Our private…." Before she could say another word, Mack walked in the door and cut her off.

"No private jokes in here," Mack called to them walking through the door. "Good to see you sitting up," he commented walking over to the bed. "How's your arm?"

"Broken," Bob said looking down at his cast.

"And the rash?"

"Finally stopped itching."

"The swelling in your face has gone down," Mack said sitting down on the edge of the bed. "You feeling better?"

"Yeah," Bob grunted. "The nurses even let me go to the head by myself."

"You about ready to get outta here then?" Mack said with a sly glance at his teammates.

"Are you thinking about busting me out early?" Bob asked anxiously.

"Agh, no," Mack remarked with a scowl. "Are you kidding Jonas would have my ass if I did anything more to jeopardize your health. He and the Colonel have already chewed part of it off and spit it out at me."

"Why you?" Red Cap asked with a perplexed expression on her face.

"In case you forgot, I was the lead on the mission," Gerhardt informed her. "And don't try to throw that _I outrank you _bull in my face."

"But I do outrank you," she growled.

"So what do you want? A medal?" he asked with a smirk on his face. It didn't take much before all three were laughing.

"Stop," Bob chuckled holding his palm against his chest. "That hurts," he coughed taking a labored breath.

"We good now?" Mack asked looking at Red Cap.

"Yeah, we're good," she replied with a smile. "We're all good."

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

Snake 9

Two weeks later

The red Silverado pulled up in the parking lot of the complex. The driver slid it into park and swept the parking lot with his eyes. _The car's not here, _he mentally noted grabbing his bag and exiting the vehicle. He walked to the mailbox and retrieved the contents, then slowly made his way to the apartment as he fingered through the envelopes.

Once inside he tossed the mail on the countertop and dropped his bag in the hall. He headed toward the bedroom and hesitated at the door. _This isn't right, _he thought as he looked at the bed. _I'm avoiding her. I stay up late to make sure she's asleep before I crawl into our bed, I don't want to be here when she is, _he cursed himself. _I'm pushing her away when I need her the most. _

Bob shook his head and walked to the bathroom. He opened and shut the medicine cabinet mindlessly and leaned over the sink. Thinking about the session today with the unit psychologist, he stared at his reflection in the mirror. _I've gone on missions and wondered if I'd ever come home again, if I'd ever see my kids again, if I'd survive another day. I'm home. I can face these demons. I need to face these demons. _

"Bob?"

He glance to the side of the mirror and caught her reflection by the doorway. She looked great standing there and _god, do I want to feel like I want her, _he thought turning slowly to look at her. "Hey," he muttered leaning his butt against the sink.

"Hey yourself," she replied. She didn't move from the doorway.

Bob eyed her carefully. _She knows that something happened to me. I don't have to tell her because she just knows me to goddamn well. I love this woman because she gets me and accepts me, even when I'm bound by my oath not to tell her anything. _"I just got in," he said finally to break the silence.

"Ugh huh," she grunted, not taking her eyes off him.

"I ah…" Bob tripped over his words. "Kim…."

"Bob you don't have to say anything," Kim interrupted him. "I get it. Something is different now. Between us."

Bob could see the tears welling in her eyes and instinctively moved to draw her into his arms. He didn't think about the contact between their bodies. It was second nature for him to tangle his fingers in her hair. "Something is different with me Kim, not us," he whispered placing a soft kiss on her forehead.

"Why do I feel like it has to do with me?" she asked looking up into his clear hazel eyes.

"Because….because I'm an idiot," he said dropping his head to hers. He brushed his thumb against her lips and tentatively pressed his lips against her mouth.

The fury of tenderness between them escalated quickly. The lure of her scent reeled him in to the safety of her embrace. His need for the connection between them was heavy in his heart, yet light on his hands. He explored her curves with a curiosity of a newcomer taking in every inch of this woman, understanding every nuance so he wouldn't be lead astray again.

_I won't be tricked, _he thought as she pulled him toward the bed. Bob sat on the edge, looking up at his wife and held her gaze wordlessly. He was torn in what he was about to do … wanting so much more, yet needing to stay within his control. She didn't make it easy on him. Her eyes were hooded and dark, her lips swollen from pressing them against his, her nipples erect and protruding from her shirt. Bob slid his left hand underneath the fabric and up the side of her chest. He cupped her breast and ran his thumb across her nubs. He smiled as a moan escaped her lips, caught in the moment of what was in front of him.

Bob could feel her hands on his head, her fingers dancing across pressure points at the base of his skull. He trailed his lips across the skin of her belly as he ran his right hand up the inside of her thigh. The heat between her legs teased his fingers, beckon him into action. He pulled his hand out from under her shirt and fumbled with the belt at her waist. He unbuckled it, then unzipped her pants and pushed the jeans down her legs to the floor.

He fingered the lace edging of her panties and looked up into her eyes. Bob could see the desire boiling beneath the surface and the way she contained it surprised him. _Except that it doesn't surprise me, _he thought as he hooked a finger under the waistband. Kim was smart. Somehow, she knew when not to push, when to let him call the shots, when to be submissive to him. Her response excited him and drew him in to her.

"Kim," he whispered kissing her stomach again. He pulled her panties down to her thighs and brushed his fingers over her swollen lips. Bob dipped his tongue to her mound and swirled it around her bud. He repeated the action when he felt her squirm in his grasp and plunged two fingers into her core. He worked the action with his tongue and his stroke relentlessly while his right hand found her breast again and teased her nipple into a throbbing hot point.

"Bob, gawd babe," Kim gasped above him jutting her hips forward.

Her moans only egged him on. Bob could feel his own erection demanding release from his pants, yet he wasn't ready for that. Instead, he focused his efforts on pleasing his wife, reminding her that this wasn't about any misplaced faith in their relationship. He could feel her response to his actions, her muscles tightening around his fingers, her hands clenching tightly to his shirt.

"Bob," she cried out as her entire body stiffened.

It did little to stop his motion. Bob continued the pressure of his tongue as her warmth flooded his lips. When he felt her slump against him, he pulled her into his arms and rolled her over onto the bed. Bob trailed his lips over hers and nipped gently at the side of her neck.

"Make love to me," she whispered breathlessly in his ear.

The words echoed in his head and jolted his libido to a halt. Simple words uttered by his wife in an act of emotional expression. His capturer had made the same request of him, yet it was filled with hatred and contempt. Bob had already talked through this moment with the shrink and thought he has conquered it. _Thought I was ready for it, _he told himself as he pulled back from Kim's lips and stroked the side of her face with his fingertips.

_Maybe it's time to just be honest with her, _he thought as he locked his eyes on his wife. _Honest like that day with the drugs. _"I can't," he whispered softly. "I want too … but I ewe…" Bob watched Kim roll on her side and bite her lip. He tilted his head in frustration.

"Something happened on the mission," Kim said with a look of understanding in her eye. All Bob could do was nod in response. "And you're taking out the trash?" she questioned him rhetorically.

"I'm working on it," he said wrapping his fingers around hers. "It's going to take some time."

"It's okay Bob," she said giving his hand a squeeze. "I already know I belong to you. I can wait for the one eyed snake."

The End


End file.
